


A Not So Silent Night

by NegansOtherWife



Series: NegansOtherWife's Smut Events [2]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alpha Negan (Walking Dead), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Christmas, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Holidays, M/M, Older Man/Younger Woman, Secret Santa, Smut, Snow, forced bed sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-09-13 23:33:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16901892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NegansOtherWife/pseuds/NegansOtherWife
Summary: for the month of December, i’ll be posting one-shots of all your faves! a crap ton of 'holida-ey' smut! i hope you guys like and love. x





	1. Smut Schedule

**Author's Note:**

> omgod yes! we're back! October's smut event went so well i wanted to do one for December. fun fact! i was born on Christmas so this is the time of the year where i literally thrive!!!
> 
> DECEMBER 10TH-20TH I'LL BE ACCEPTING REQUESTS! leave them in my ask box on tumblr or in the comments here. 
> 
> questions? leave 'em below! mwah! x
> 
> ps Deny Me and New World Order will be updated soon, i promise.


	2. Little Pink Lines (Request)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A pregnant reader tells Negan she’s pregnant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay, for the first request. thanks, anon!

“Shit. Shit. Shitty- _shit_. Shit.” You hissed, pacing the length of your small bathroom as you clutched your hair tightly in agitation. Hopping from one foot to the next, you spun in a tiny circle and crossed your legs. Anything to pass the time, anything to not think or look at that _thing._  “Holy fuck! I’m screwed, aren’t I? Really up _Shit’s Creek_?”

Regarding your reflection, you spoke, “Maybe it’ll be negative and we can forget this ever happened?”

You found your reflection nodding back, looking every part of a stressed out, slightly crazed woman. “I like that positive attitude but we’re sinking here, hun.”

Covering your mouth, you glanced down at the upside down pregnancy test balancing on the bathroom sink. “Okay, it's time!” Giving yourself a small pep talk you flipped the test only to recoil, taking a small step back, then another, and an even larger step after that. With a small yelp, you landed ass-first into your tub, legs splayed over the edge as your mind tried to process the reality of your situation.

Positive.

“How?”

Okay, you knew the how. 

You also knew the when, where, and _who_.

Who.

“Holy- _motherfucking_ -shit!” 

Negan. 

Negan wasn’t father material, at least as far as you knew. He _did_ carry his bat around like it was the most precious thing in the universe, but even that was questionable. Though, it wasn’t hard to imagine Negan with a baby if you replaced it with Lucille…

The thought did nothing to quell the bubbling fear in your gut.

“Ok, Y/N.” In a desperate attempt to gather yourself, you gave your face a few hard taps. “Get your shit together, girl. I mean what is there to freak out about?” Your brow furrowed as you began to answer the self-imposed question. “Hmm, I suppose a few things, Y/N. One. You’re apart of a **fucking** harem and you’ve only known the father of your baby for like two months. Holy shit, I’m screwed.” You whimpered. 

Had it even been two months? Fuck, if your judgmental Aunt Susan could see you know. Never mind Debby Perkins, your high school bully from down the street. It was her favorite punchline: Y/N, the slut, she’d be pregnant before graduation rolled around. 

What were the odds that she’d showed up at the Sanctuary two days ago?

“Fuck!” You screeched. “Could this day get _any_ worse?”

The sound of your bedroom door slamming caused you to jump, yet, you remained in the bathtub knowing that you had locked the bathroom door.

“Oh, wifey!” Negan’s voice bolstered as you heard him walk towards your bathroom door. “You in there? Got my fingers…”

“…crossed for a little freaky-deaky!” You silently mouthed along with a grimace. “Um, yeah. I’m here, Negan. But I’m not feeling well I’ve got t-the…um, ass-sweats?” You confessed lamely. “Guess it was the mystery meat for dinner.”

“Oh, honey, you know a little extra _sumthin’_ never scared me before!”

“Ew.” You quietly mewled.

“What was that?”

“Uh, nothing!” You called aloud, fumbling with the test in your hands. “I’m taking a shit, go away!” You tried again. 

The sound of boots scuffling across the floor made your stomach threaten to drop out of your ass. You kind of wanted that, at least you wouldn’t be lying…

You were a foul-mouthed bitch according to Sherry. You’d be lying if you said that she wasn’t right. Hell, you owned that shit. But a liar you were not, even _you_ had values.

“I’m not leavin’ until I see your sweet ass,” Negan yelled through the door, knocking to the tune of _Jingle Bells_.

“Oh, Negan. Seriously?” You hissed. “Don’t you have another wife to annoy?”

“Not one as foul-mouthed and as bitchy as you,” He cheeked from the other side of the door.

See? You weren’t lying when you said you were notorious for the amount of filth you spewed on a daily bases. Ironic enough, you’d gotten looks from the mothers that inhabited the factory before for your potty mouth. Now to think you’d be one of them…

“Negan?” Your throat thickened with emotion, eyes slightly tearing as his name became locked in your throat. 

“Yeah?”

“Just leave me the fuck alone, please?” You begged.

“Nah, I wan’a fuck with you a little bit.” The two of you began to laugh simultaneously; though, you were sure that you were laughing for two totally different reasons. You were going crazy, you were sure of it. “Open the damn door, woman.” He tried again.

“So you can see me shit?” You asked, keeping up the charade.

“Nah, so I can see that gorgeous smile of yours. You know the one?” He continued with a wisp of something you couldn’t detect in his voice. “It’s the one when you’re cooking up some devious shit in your head to mess with Sherry. It’s fuck’n beautiful.”

“Please don’t say shit like that,” You swallowed hard, suddenly overcome with another strong wave of emotion.

His answer came slightly delayed, “Why the fuck not, Y/N?”

“Because you might make me think this could actually work,” You whispered lowly. 

Your bathroom door unexpectedly swung open, a triumphant Negan on the other side with a key in hand. “What could work?”

“What the fuck, Negan?” You screeched, trying and failing to maneuver out of the tub as he advanced further into the tiny room, looking now agitated as he realized you’d been messing with him this entire time. “Why did you do that? Remember what we agreed on? Locked doors stay fucking locked!”

“You think I don’t know the sound of you crying by now?” 

“Oh, fuck me! Big, bad Negan to the rescue, right?” You shot back. “I should be so pleased, _right_? Kiss your ass like the others and fall down on my knees! Get! Out!” Your voice rose in volume, frustrated by his intrusion and in a fit of rage, you finally wrenched yourself from the bathtub and chucked the pregnancy test at his head. “ _Here_! Try and fix this.”

He caught the test, paying it no mind as he followed you from the bathroom. You weren’t sure where you were heading, your options limited with him following closely behind. Why, oh why, did your husband have to be a bat-wielding maniac with a harem attached to him as baggage? With no other choice, you plopped down face first onto your bed with a sigh. 

“Hey, don’t be so fuck’n bitchy. I was worried about you and now you’re out here throwing—what the fuck is this?” He balked, studying the faint pink lines of the pregnancy test that had been wreaking havoc on your life for the past ten minutes. 

Lifting your head, you answered, “A fucking pregnancy test, Negan. What the hell does it look like?” A pause. “And if you ask if it's yours I will raise this baby fatherless, I swear it.”

You felt the bed dip beside you, the feeling of his hand on your lower back beginning to rub small circles.

“A baby. I’m going to be a father?” He breathed, bouncing slightly. “Jesus Christ, _me_?”

Turning your head, you caught a glance of his brown eyes widening in disbelief as his ministrations stalled so that he could press a kiss to the tip of your nose. Turtle kisses, your favorite. 

“Holy fuck! We should celebrate!” Negan’s eyebrows wiggled in an invitation, leaning close to your ear so that he could emphasize the word: “ _Naked_.”

“What exactly is there to celebrate? Honey,” You tried to keep the placating tone out of your voice as you sat up to fully address him, “my life is quickly turning into an episode of _Sister Wives_. You’ve got like five other woman to entertain while I’ll be left wiping a poopy ass.”

“I’ll get rid of ‘em,” He simply shrugged. “You’re the carbon copy of me. You swear worse than a sailor and you like to play mind games and fuck with people.” Negan rattled off. “What more could I ask for, especially from you.”

“That simple?”

“When you know, you know.” He nodded. “Now, _be_ excited!”

Maybe it was the hormones or his blatant honesty, but you found yourself mirroring Negan’s excitement. With a shy smile, you grasped his hand and pressed it to your flat stomach. “We’re going to have a baby. Like a living, _breathing_ being. Promise me that you’ll protect them with your life and you’ll love them despite how many times they fuck up— because let's face it—its _our_ kid. Just promise me that you’ll always be there for whoever pops out of my vagina and basically destroys it.” You finished with a grimace.

Pressing your back into the mattress, Negan shuffled down a couple inches until he was face to belly. “Hey, little shit.” Ignoring the fact that you smacked him upside the head, he continued, “I’m your daddy and I love you already. You’re the best gift that I’ve ever been given and I **promise** you that I’ll always be there when you’re sad and you need someone to talk to. Promise that I’ll never let you hurt and that I’ll have an answer for every question you have. I’ll try my best to be your daddy.”

Tears had welled in your eyes towards the end of his sincere dialogue. Biting your lip, you thought, maybe this could work. 

“I just have one question for your mommy.” Negan looked up, pressing a soft kiss to your belly. “Marry me, Y/N? Be my one and only?”


	3. Baby, It's Cold Outside (Request)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Negan helps the reader stay warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another request, a crap ton more to go! yayy! 
> 
> lov u guys x

**BABY, IT’S COLD OUTSIDE** _**  
** _

“Are you sure about this?” You asked meekly, twisting your pillow between your palms as you studied his room. It dripped luxury in an extravagant, yet tasteful manner. Come to think of it, everything about Negan seemed to be borderline. He was brutally honest, yet aloof. Abrasive, yet unnaturally kind when the moment called for it. “A bed is meant to be a sacred place,” You tacked on hastily, ignoring the blatant fact that you rotated a bed with five other people.

The cold, damp sweat at the nape of your neck seemed to mock you as the skin of your bottom lip broke beneath your teeth with worry. Anxiously, you awaited his answer.

“If I have to say it one more goddamn time, you’ll be partners with Fat J on the next run or som’ shit…” Negan muttered halfheartedly, tugging at the corner of the bed sheets until they gave way. “What side do you want? I’m fuck’n beat.”

“Umm, the left?” Your eyes darted to the door as you answered him.

With his back facing you, he spoke, “Try it and I’ll tie you to the bed.”

The tension in your feet lessened, a different kind forming in your belly as he lifted his shirt over his head and discarded it in a nearby chair.

“Is this how you treat all your Saviors?” You muttered after a beat, mystified by his ‘unnaturally kind’ offer to share his bed for the night after yet another one of your nightmares. Though, if you were being honest, it was more of a command than anything else.

“Only the ones who wake the whole factory with their screaming in the middle of the night,” He knocked a throw pillow aside before turning to you with a groggy smirk, “so just you and Simon.”

“Touché.” You mumbled, sliding between the sheets and audibly gasping at the silk that kissed your scarred skin in the most unforgivable way. This bed would ruin you. “If I were you I’d never leave this bed.” You’re only half-kidding.

“S’not the bed. It’s the comfort it brings.” The mattress dipped as he settled onto the right side of the bed. You’d never seen him so— _comfortable_ —dressed in soft pants and nothing else. He’s a knight without his leather armor. Without his facade, you realized silently. Negan’s usual bravado is gone for the night and left in its place is this human you can’t fathom in your weakened state. “Feels like before. Now, get over here.”

“What?” You shook your head, inching away from his outstretched hands. “I think it’s enough that I’m sharing a bed with my boss _after_ I thoroughly humiliated myself in front of everyone tonight… _okay_ , okay!” Negan tugged you closer, applying pressure to your lower back until you practically straddled his right leg.

“Put your head on my chest.” Yet another command. You found yourself hesitating, unsure if you should make a run for the door while you still could. With a huff, Negan pressed a palm to your temple, placing your head in the crook of his neck. It’s awkward and limbs are misplaced, it shouldn’t work, but it does. “Judging by the bags under your eyes, you haven’t slept in days.”

“So?” Your voice broke as you attempted to place a facade before your crumbling exterior. “Isn’t that everyone lately?”

Ignoring your question, his hand snaked beneath your baggy shirt and pressed against the base of your spine. A soft sigh escaped your lips as he gently began to rub your back and you gradually relaxed further into his chest. The crackling fire across from his bed rivaled the warmth coming from his hand and your eyes began to feel uncomfortably heavy as his ministrations progressed. “Um, thank you.”  You said after a particularly long stretch of silence. “Sorry about the nightmares.”

“Nonsense, sweetheart. Just tell ‘ol Negan what has your panties in a bunch.” He urged.

“You’ll laugh at me…” You hedged. Negan’s forearm tightened around your waist as he motioned for you to meet his gaze.

“I’d never laugh, Y/N, nightmares are serious shit.” His hand traveled upward, bringing the hemline of your shirt a little higher. “Now, talk.”

“Okay, fine.” You reluctantly agreed. “Then I get to leave?”

“Huh, you’re funny.” He chuckled. “Think I’ll keep you.” Negan gripped you tighter for emphasis, and your arms flailed, bracing against his chest as you now fully straddled his waist. Laid atop his prone form as you were, you could feel his heartbeat thrum softly against yours as you pressed against his warmth. You’d be taken aback by the abrupt nature of this moment, maybe even balk at the oddity if this were someone different, but this was so ‘ _Negan-ish_ ’—you’d almost come to expect it. “Spill it, girl.”

“Okay, _okay_.” Burying your face into his chest, you admitted softly, “It’s the snow.”

“The snow?” He uncovered your face, mystified brown pupils meeting yours as he regarded you slightly.

You nodded. “I’m buried alive and I’m cold… _really_ …really cold.” Releasing a delicate shiver you continued, “I can hear them calling for me, but they never come. I don’t know, I guess it’s just a silly childhood fear but…”

“It never goes away.” He finished.

“Exactly,” Biting your lip, you studied his sleepy expression from under your lashes before pressing your ear to his heartbeat. “I’ve just always hated being cold.”

“You’re warm now, aren’t you?”

Tucking the sheets around the both of you, Negan released a deep sigh. While he began to doze, you briefly pondered the idea of staying here, wrapped in his arms. Negan had remarked once that you had a laugh like his dead ex-wife, that you did little things that reminded him of her. You were sure that was the only reason you were in his bed now and not twisted in your bedsheets, screaming two floors below him. You were sure that you screamed like her too.

“Mhmm, yes.”

You promised yourself you’d leave when he was fast asleep, even if you had to wait him out; but **sleep** came to you the way it usually did, gradually then all at once. The same could be said about your **awakening** , your eyes fluttered slowly open, trying to sense the oddity in the room that had woken you.

You were cold. Terribly, terribly cold and the silk sheets did nothing but catch the chill in the air. In your slumber, you’d separated from Negan who still slept on his back, his bare abdomen exposed to the room. He’d kicked off all his blankets or maybe you’d just stolen them.

The fire in the fireplace had burned to embers. Cold. You were cold and outside Negan’s bedroom window you could see the heavy snowfall that gathered on his windowpane. Subconsciously, your body slid across the bed, hoping to soak up the warmth that seemed to bleed from his body.

You sighed when your body connected with Negan’s, first toes then other limbs becoming intertwined with his as he slumbered on. You were tucked firmly under his arm but it still didn't seem like enough, heavy shivers wracked your frame while you attempted to squirm impossibly closer.

Negan awoke with a sharp exhale, blinking alert in mere seconds as his eyes swept the room before coming to meet yours. He seemed confused but then the expression shifted, replaced by something else. “Cold?”

Nodding you gave a slight whimper when he tried to leave the bed, your only source of heat threatening to leave you. “Please, Negan?” Your voice felt louder in the large room, filled with the dread that your usual nightmares gave you. “Make me warm?”

“Hold on, woman. I’ll get the fire—”

“Please, _please_ ,” You were delirious in your actions, grabbing at his forearms until he had no choice but to come crashing atop you. He tried to brace himself on his forearms, but you were relentless. “You’re warmer.” You spoke the words into the crook of his the neck, feeling him shiver as you ran your nose along the column of his throat.

Your legs slowly, tentatively wrapped around his waist, drawing him closer. Negan groaned and swore, his hips beginning to subconsciously rock against the cradle of your hips. “Fuck, Y/N. At least let me get the fire going.” He tried again. “Baby, it’s cold outside.”

Your grip lessened, reminded by the snowstorm that howled viciously outside. It only took him mere minutes to get the fire going. From where he crouched before the fireplace, he turned and pointed towards a small cupboard across the room. You took quick steps, mindful of the places where his rugs didn’t meet the cold metal floor.

“Pick some and we’ll get warm together,” Negan called, his voice unintentionally low and sultry as you opened the cabinet door only to find an abundance of thick, knitted blankets. You choose the ones that looked the warmest, mindful of the slow heat that had settled in your groin with Negan’s unspoken promise.

“It’s getting bad out there,” You noted, watching him arrange a soft bed before the fire, the golden hues catching in his skin and his eyelashes. You wondered what you must look like to him.

“Up to their knees,” He regarded the window for only a moment before turning to you with a warmth in his eyes that made you tremble. “Now get on yours.”

You took a breath. “Yes, Negan.”

The blankets cushioned the majority of the blow and you inched forward, running a single finger along the length of his defined ab when he became within arms reach. “Getting warmer?” His palm swept against the exposed skin of your hemline before he drew them up in a quick movement, ridding you of your top.  

“Please?”

With a downward sweep, his large hands cupped your breasts, pushing them together slightly before retreating to toy with your peaked nipples. You were warm, warmer than you’d ever been this season and it had nothing to do with the fireplace mere feet away. With a near silent sigh, you arched your back, bringing your breasts firmly into the palms of his hand. Negan groaned a needy, achy sound before bringing his mouth flush again yours while pulling at the peaked tips of your breasts.

“Warm enough?” He spoke the words between slips of the tongue, gliding his across your lower lip and sucking it into his mouth. He tasted of peppermint and smelt of cinnamon. Negan was a sweet invasion of the senses, taking you into his arms in an addictive hold.

You felt the blankets against your back, the heat of the fire against your skin and Negan’s lips as they traveled across your bare abdomen. It just wasn’t enough. “Make me warm, Negan.  Please?”

He paused, smirking against your breast and then taking the tip into his hot mouth. You cried out this time, the feeling going straight to your sex as it became slick with your need.

“You want me—?” You gave a startled cry as he cupped you intimately. “Right _here_.”

“Yes, yes.” Drawing his mouth to your other breast, you drew your legs up and into the waistband of his loose pants. “Fuck me warm.”

With a sharp exhale he worked at your bottoms, taking a brief moment to study the way your upper thighs glistened in the firelight before dragging a finger through the lips of your cunt, a sleepy, soft smile playing at the corner of his lips as he lined his thick cock with your entrance.

“Oh, _oh_ —” Your breath hitched at a particularly firm thrust, he was kissing every inch of your inner walls, chasing away the remnants of the cold as he slid further into your wet, aching cunt.

“Warm?” Bottoming out, he lifted his head from the crook of your neck to nip at your chin.

“ _Hmm_ , warm.” You were utterly blissed out, hips tilting to take him deeper with each rock of his hips.

The wet slapping of skin on skin began to fill the room, his soft grunts mingling with the crackling of the fire in the hearth as you cried out—over and over.  You were burning so beautifully, reaching for something that had been within reach this whole time.

“O-oh, Negan!” Negan lifted onto his haunches, bringing both of your legs over his shoulders before leaning forward so that you were folded in half. It was inescapable, flames licking at your skin as you began to crest. “I’m burning…”

“Yeah?” He thrusted, searching for that one particular spot. “Warmer, baby?”

You weren’t sure if you could. Covered in a thin sheen of sweat you wanted to surrender, yet emboldened by the flames and what could be on the other side, you nodded hesitantly. The feeling of being suspended in mid-air shot through your taught tummy and you found within seconds that you’d been turned onto your belly.

“So fuckin’ warm,” Negan breathed, draping himself against your back and pushing into your pulsing heat with one thrust. The feeling of his wet mouth against your bare back, the pure intimacy of the moment was enough to send you over the edge.  

Your walls tightened around his pulsing cock, drawing him deeper into your cunt as you shivered and your back arched as he fucked you harder into the blankets. And while you trembled in the aftermath of your release, he gave you his heat, gripping your waist as you cried out.

After a breath, Negan gathered you in his arms, bringing the blankets over entwined limbs as he cuddled you closer.

“Warmer?”

“Hmm, just right.” You yawned, pressing closer.


	4. Once Upon A Time (Request)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tale of forlorn lovers. Negan and Rick, old friends who'd once shared a drunken kiss, share another and enjoy what could have been. {AU season 6 finale}

“Alright, we’ve got a full boat. Let’s meet the man.”

The sharp rasp at the RV door sent a quell of excitement up Negan’s spine. He lived for moments like this. A dramatic pause in the climax of someone else’s story. He was the plot maker and the storyteller rolled into one cluster-fuck of a self-diagnosed psychopath. He could just as easily give life and snuff out another. The unmistakable power that he held in the palm of his hand didn’t fail to escape him. He reveled in it, made it his bitch and thoroughly enjoyed the trail of carnage he’d left in his wake.

Hell, he’d be lying if he said his dick wasn’t half hard.

With one last glance at his reflection in the mirror, he carefully rearranged his features, placing a self-indulgent smirk on his face and brightening his eyes until they lost the dull consistency that had haunted him since the world had gone to shit.

It was showtime.

“Pissing our pants yet?” He paused, catching some gazes as he exited the RV. Some looked away, others defied odds and met his stoic irises. “Boy, do I have a feeling we’re getting close. Which one of you pricks is the leader?” 

He waited patiently to see if anyone would speak. They usually didn’t. 

“It’s this one.” Simon pointed to a hunched figure. A man, Negan thought, who looked broken and forlorn. He probably had a good reason. “This is the guy.”

Pandemonium. Negan had always thought they had similar eyes, both in likeness and soulfulness. Only now his were rimmed were rimmed with something he didn’t care to identify and Rick’s were overflowing with life. 

“Hi.” The quiver in his voice was unmistakable, detectable to at least himself. He hated himself for that. “You’re R-rick, right? I’m Negan.”

Fucking stupid. Of course, he knew who he was. The recognition in his eyes was there along with a slew of other emotions. Hate. Disgust. He’d be the one to alter Rick’s plot, they both knew it.  

Negan couldn’t remember what he did next. It was a half-truth, but the truth nonetheless. He’d berated Rick's group, threatened the kid Lucille and him used to babysit, and generally wreaked havoc. To the naked eye, he’d murdered in the name of his fallen men but if they looked closer they could see the minuscule glance he’d thrown in Rick’s direction. Hear the throaty whimper of frustration and old hurt that had balled and locked in his throat. Rick’s sudden appearance had reopened old wounds and he was remiss to think this could ever be a cheerful reunion. He’d drawn blood. They’d both had. 

When it was just the two of them in the silence of the RV; Negan couldn’t help but think that Rick had never looked more beautiful than he did now, bloodied and battered.

He spoke first. “You know I’d never hurt the boy, right?”

There was a long pause before Rick asked, “Lucille?”

“Died.” He bit out. “Lori?”

He threw out a bitter laugh. “Cheated, then died.”

Negan joined in the tense laughter before it abruptly died, leaving only broken promises and anticipation in the air. He didn’t know what to say. In the cramped space, they stood chest to chest, sharing the same breath. The prior moments seemed to be put aside and it was just like before; before they'd ever kissed and before Negan had become this husk of a man and unrepairable.

Cutting through the silence, Rick finally said, “Call me fucking crazy—”

“I’ve called you worse, trust me.” He cut in. 

“You never knew when to shut the fuck up, did you?” Rick’s hoarse voice suddenly cracked, echoing the hurt that Negan knew all too well. He shuffled closer, pressing their chests together until Negan was sure that he’d gone and stole his breath. “F-for some reason, I just keep going back to…” He paused. “Do you remember that moment, that time I kissed you?” His voice lowered but it didn’t take away from the smoldering intensity just below the surface. 

“Once upon a time, Ricky,” He decided to play it coy despite the fact that he replayed that moment in his head every night before he fell asleep, “that shit needs to stay in the past.”

“You have too, Negan.” Rick persisted. “I think I broke you that day.”

The truth draped across his lips and that was the first thing Negan tasted when their lips touched. Warm and slightly chapped, he tasted the blood on Rick's lips and was instantly transported back to the first time they’d kissed.

For a long time, Negan had felt suspended in mid-air. There’d been a time where all aspects of his life were broken, falling pieces and he was the biggest chard of them all. Yet the moment Rick’s hand wove into the tendrils of hair at the nape of his neck, he was immersed in the here and now. He’d been living a half-life, Negan realized.

Their lips parted, tongues gliding against one another as they both reminisced to a time when things were simpler. It was bittersweet and shameless. Yet, long overdue. They kissed like the world was ending and the earth was falling from underneath their feet. Just the two of them and nothing else except potential.

Just as quickly as they’d come together, they broke apart.

“I at least owe you that.” Rick’s lips parted, slightly damp from saliva— _his saliva_. They seemed to both ponder the repercussions of the kiss. “The _could_ have happened…”

For the first time in years, a genuine smile graced his gruff features and as he backed away towards the driver’s seat, he thought he saw a glimpse of the man he’d called his friend so long ago. A challenge. That’s what Rick was and my, oh my, Negan had finally met his match.

What happened next, well, he’d gladly let Rick take ahold of the plot. 

At least, for a bit.

“Rick, let's take a drive.” With a flick of his wrist, the engine began to rumble beneath their feet, the stuck cassette tape that he’d long since given up on removing filled the air with Bing Crosby’s eerie croon. “Let’s explore what _will_ happen.”

_I'll be home for Christmas, You can plan on me_

_Please have snow and mistletoe, And presents on the tree_

With another backward glance in the rearview mirror, he met Rick’s hardened gaze and pressed the gas, sending them careening into the inky black night.

_Christmas Eve will find me,_

_Where the lovelight gleams…_


	5. a/n note

##  **i currently have over 20+ holiday requests sitting in my inbox. i’d hate to pick and choose so i ask for patience as i finish up holiday requests into the next year. x**


	6. Home For The Holidays (Request)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader asks Rick to be her pretend boyfriend for the holidays.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok, so no smut. forewarning. but there is nice fluff. x
> 
> ps ignore the spelling errors im a mess.

“You sure about this?”

“Of course I am,” Nibbling at your lower lip, you chanced a glance in his direction before tightening your grip on the steering wheel as another wave of nausea hit you. “Um, why do you ask?

Rick snickered. “Y/N, you’re gripping that steering wheel for dear life. Tell me what’s wrong, Jessie Girl.” He urged, curling a hand around your knee and giving a comforting squeeze in turn. 

You smiled at the use of the nickname he’d given you only the second week that you’d been partnered together on the force. It never failed to make you grin, no matter how small. Still, it abruptly died at the thought of why he was trying to cheer you up in the first place. 

“Rick, I’m so sorry.” You gasped out. “I put you in this situation and now you’re here instead of spending time with Carl during the holidays and—my god—I’m asking you to lie to my family, Rick. I’m a terrible, _terrible_ person! Carl should have his mother and father with him what with the recent divorce and—! Oh fuck, _my mother_! She’ll see right through us and it’s all my sister’s fault. If I had to hear her brag about Alice’s baby one more _goddamn_ time…” Cutting yourself off, you forced in a deep breath and quickly fanned yourself. Was it hot in here or just your emotional breakdown?

Rick broke the silence, mumbling softly, “You know you’re kind of sexy when you’re losing it.”

“Oh, shut up.” You sniffed, reaching into the glove box and completely missing Rick’s forlorn expression. “Stop shooting the shit and name my siblings.” You ordered.

“Taylor, Matthew, and Alice.” He rattled off absentmindedly while he fiddled with the radio, a concentrated expression creased into his features. After three years as partners, you knew that expression well, brow furrowed and tongue in cheek. Usually, the best strategies came from that face. The best pep talks, too. “You need to relax, and I’ve got just the thing.”

Soon after his fingers had touched the radio dials, the familiar riffs of a guitar filled the small space of the cruiser followed by Rick Springfield’s voice.

_Jessie is a friend, yeah…_

“Rick, stop,” You groaned. “I’m not in the mood. At any time my mother is going to realize we’re parked outside and this _hell-ish_ Christmas weekend will commence.”

“Nope, not gon’a happen,” He nudged your shoulder with his own and sang along to the next line, purposefully altering the words, “ _I know_ **s** _he's been a good friend of mine…_ ”

“But lately something's changed that ain't hard to define…” You begrudgingly muttered.

“Don’t half-ass it or it won’t work,” He quickly uttered before picking back up where you’d left off. _“Jessie’s got himself a girl and I want to make her mine…”_

You sang the next lines together unable to withhold from your favorite song. 'Jessie's Girl' had never failed to cheer you up and Rick knew that. He knew a lot about you, actually. You confided in each other and in the past year you’d come to find that your feelings about your best friend and partner had begun to border on unstable proportions—

 **Knock.** _I play along_    **Knock.** _with the charade…_

The incessant knocking at your window pulled you from your inner musings only for you turn your head and jump with a small scream. 

It was your worst nightmare. 

Your mother.

“Oh, fuck. Let’s do this,” You muttered. “For the next forty-eight hours you’re the love of my life.” Scoffing at the thought, you ignored your mother in favor of checking your mascara in the rearview mirror. If your mother wasn’t so obsessed with your love life you wouldn’t be in this godforsaken situation. 

“Honey, roll down the damn window! Who’s your friend?” Your mother knocked again this time more insistent, no doubt noticing Rick in the passenger seat. “A potential husband, I hope? Honey, is that Rick? Your partner?!”

You were in a goddamn Lifetime movie. 

_I wanna tell her that I love her, But the point is probably moot…_

“God, she’s like a shark who’s smelt blood in the water.” Flipping the radio off, you turned to Rick with a sheepish expression. “I’m sorry this is how you're spending the holidays, honest. My family is fucking nuts and it kinda just slipped out. We’re always together and my mother asked about you and I don’t know… I…” You finished in a whisper, meeting his soulful gaze with your own. 

“Yeah, Jessie Girl?” He grinned expectantly. “Let it out.”

“I…” You tried again. 

 _I told her what I wanted to be true._ You silently finished in your head.  

By the time you’d finished choking on your own words your mother had moved around to the other side of the vehicle, knocking at Rick’s window, she coaxed, “Don’t be shy, Ricky. I don’t bite. Come inside I have gingerbread.”

“Shit,” You hissed. “You locked your door, right?”

Abruptly, the car door swung open, letting in the brisk morning air.

“Ricky, so nice to meet you.” A pair of arms emerged from the black drop-scape, weaving around Rick’s torso. “Hello, dear. I can call you Ricky, right?”

With a surprised grunt, Rick vanished, leaving you with the lingering scent of warm gingerbread and spiced chai in the air. 

“So nice to see you, Mom.”

* * *

“Mom,” You complained, dunking another dirty plate into the sudsy water. Wash. Rinse. Repeat. So was your life. “Enough with the 20/20 questions. I told you already I was partnered with Rick after he asked for a separation from his old partner. The rest, as they say, is freak’n history.”

“As you’ve said, hun.” With a sigh, she reached for the offered plate, drying it off with a towel and placing it delicately back into the dishwasher. Such a conundrum, your mother. “I just want to know about the magic, you know? When did the sparks fly? Did you look into his eyes one day and realize what you'd wanted had been in front of you the entire time?" She sighed dreamily, clutching the towel in her hand to her chest. 

“This isn’t a Lifetime movie, Ma. You need to layoff that channel for a bit.” Your brow furrowed in concentration, attempting to scrape at a hardened piece of lasagna stuck to a plate. 

“So your father has said,” She pouted. “Will you be fine with the rest of the dishes while I get your bed ready?”

“Sure, um, where does Dad have Rick sleeping? The recliner, right?”

Your mother gave you a covert wink and with a small squeal she pulled you closer and wrapped a dainty hand around your shoulder. “Tonight, you’ll be sharing a bed with your man.” She purred. 

“B-but what about Dad?” You queried and it was only when she gave you a slightly suspicious look did you realize that you weren’t acting the part of a woman in love. With a forced smile, you said, “I just wouldn’t want to disrespect Dad, you know?”

“Oh, Y/N.” She cooed. “Let me handle your father. I want grandchildren and I am so certain about Ricky. You and him are going to make beautiful babies."

“It’s Rick, Mom.” Biting your lip, you briefly pondered the idea of sharing a bed with Rick. It made your stomach twist in the most obscene way. “Mom, is it hot in here or just me?”

“You’re not having another one of your moments, are you? I thought those ended in high school. I’ll have you know Motherhood is the most rewarding thing a woman can experience.” She patted your shoulder, giving you another wink before dashing for the stairs.

Nervously, you hummed to yourself, “ _Like Jessie's girl, I wish that I had Jessie's girl…_ ”

* * *

“Do you want the left side or the right?”

Rick Grimes, always the gentleman. Dressed in a pair of soft, grey sleep shorts and utterly shirtless, he'd taken your breath away and seemed completely unbothered by it. He was simultaneously the best and worth thing to ever happen to you. Averting your eyes, you pointed to the right and returned to the bathroom to brush your teeth.

“Tonight wasn’t so bad,” You glanced briefly into the mirror and met his gaze. He’d followed you into the bathroom and as he’d leaned against the doorframe, your eyes slowly traced the contour of his biceps before dropping briefly to the defined ‘v’ of his abs. “I like your family. Alice is talkative but I'm good at listening. Taylor and Matthew like beer, so we're straight." He shrugged. "Your Dad’s a bit of a hardass, but I think I won him over with pictures of Carl.”

Spitting and rinsing, you pivoted to face him, only to run face first into his chest. “How is he?”

“Rebellious,” He shrugged. You shivered delicately at the light touch on your shoulder. His warm digits dragged along the soft skin of your shoulder as he fixed the strap of your nightgown. “Still doesn’t understand how my ex-partner is his soon-to-be step-dad.”

You grimaced in kind. “Shit. We should FaceTime him, right? Just so he knows we’re thinking of him.” At your outer musings, Rick laughed, the scent of peppermint washing over your face. “Why are you laughing at me?”

“C’mon,” Ignoring your question, he pulled you towards your childhood bed. The Queen-sized mattress seemed to taunt you. In mere moments you were going to be sharing a bed with your partner and so-called boyfriend. "It's time for bed."

When you were both safely tucked away in bed, Rick on his side and head propped, he began to talk. “I laughed because when I told Carl I was spending Christmas with your family, he begged me to let him come along.”

Your breath hitched at his closeness, the cramped space of the bed left little wriggle room; and while he’d insisted he had no qualms about sharing a bed with you, you were slightly doubtful. This was an HR case in the making, you were sure of it. You had to be breaking at least one formal code of conduct. 

“I am pretty cool, despite the occasional breakdown.” You agreed, reaching for your phone. “It’s not too late, right?”

“He’s twelve, Y/N, he’s up playing video games.” In your closeness, you could hear him swallow hard. “Call him. He finally knows what he wants you to get him for Christmas.”

With a grunt, you scrolled through your phone until you found his name. “It’s about damn time, it’s almost midnight.” 

As the thrumming of your phone filled your childhood room, you had the strangest feeling you were walking into something unexpected. You know the feeling? One part nervousness, one part excitement. Like your life was about to change in the most unexpected of ways. Before you could voice your concerns, Carl popped up on the small screen.

“Hey, Bug.” You greeted him eagerly, sitting up slightly to wave. “How was your Christmas? I missed you.” 

“Okay, I guess. Shane got me a bb-gun.” He grimaced slightly. “Where’s Dad?”

You swiveled the phone so that he could see Rick, before asking, “He told me you know what you want for Christmas. What is it? A trip to Disneyland.” You teased.

“Ok, before I tell you,” He took a deep breath, “you have to rub your eyes. C’mon, both hands.”

Despite the confusion you felt, you passed Rick your phone and hesitantly began to rub your eyes. 

“Now look at Dad? What do you see?” Carl asked. 

“Um, my partner?” You guessed.

“Try again.” He asked. “This time, think harder.”

“Okay,” You rubbed your eyes again, this time considering what you’d say. Rick was so much more than a partner when you gave it some thought, you realized He was not only your best friend and confidant, he was your everything. It was just something you’d never be able to admit. “I don’t see what this has to do with your gift, but…”

When you opened your eyes, the first thing you noticed was Rick’s closeness. His eye glowed brightly with mirth but they remained rimmed with nervousness. Tentatively, he brushed his lips with yours. 

“I want you to give my dad a chance,” Carl grinned through the phone. “He’s been in love with you for years.”

“Carl, I—” You sputtered.

“A chance, Y/N. That's all I want for Christmas.” Your screen went black. 

A chance?

“Um, is that true?” You breathed. “What Carl said?"

He pulled you forward, a warm hand pressing against your lower back and you found as your chests pressed tightly against one another that his heartbeat thrummed just as fast as yours. “You know why I call you Jessie, Y/N?” 

 _Ok, don’t answer._ You huffed inwardly.

“Because I play that stupid song like eighty times a day?” You finally breathed, your lips were still tingling from his lips on yours. Head spinning you tried to make sense of Carl’s request. “How long?”

“The day after I signed the divorce papers. You took me to that gas station and got us fro-yo, remember?”

“I do,” You bit your lip, deciding to take a chance. “I remember.”

“I remember thinking, you’re so goddamn funny and beautiful. Faithful, too. Why couldn’t I have found you, before…” He trailed.

“I get it, I do.” You rushed to assure him. “For me, it was the first time you called me Jessie Girl. My heart stopped and started all in the same breath; I remember thinking ‘call me that again’.” You softly confessed. 

“My Jessie Girl, I knew you felt it too. The name is kind of fitting.” Rick grinned, softly humming against your lips, “ _But lately something's changed that ain't hard to define, I wish that I had Jessie Girl…_ ”

A pause.

“Wait, you’re telling me that you’re in love with me through Bruce Springfield lyrics?” You queried between the small moments he allowed you to breathe. “Like love-love?”

He broke the kiss. “In your childhood bedroom, no less. I like it; it’s definitely us.” Rick surveyed the room with a slight smirk before stopping on something above your head. You followed his gaze only to gasp in disbelief. A sprig of mistletoe had been tied above the headboard of your bed. 

“My damn mother,” You cursed. “She’s practically begging for more grandchildren.”

“I mean we could make a baby tonight,” He hedged.

You gave a carefully placed elbow to the rib in retort, snorting, “Nice try, Grimes. You need to at least buy me dinner before you impregnate me.” You emphasized.

“Jessie Girl, I think I can do that.”

**Author's Note:**

> leave me a kudo, i'm working my ass off ov'a here! mwah, love you! xxx


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